Do You Have Your Wellness Card?
by perfectlyinsanex
Summary: Santana Lopez hates her job. She hates the customers and she hates most of her coworkers. But when a tall, leggy blonde walks in one day, Santana finds herself wanting to work more and more.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hey guys! So, I've had this finished for a couple of weeks now. I was going to try to finish the second chapter of Porter and upload that first but it's taking me way too long. So, in honor of Brittana sex tapes, here's a new story! For those of you who don't know, Rite Aid is the exact same thing as CVS. I know the East Coast has them but they stop at Ohio or something and skip over to Cali. So depending where you live, you may have never seen one.

Leave me reviews, let me know what you liked. Play the guessing game and predict what's going to happen. I'll try to upload this three times a week, but I'm not promising anything. Also, this is what the employment looks like:

Front End Employees:  
Sue Sylvester – 50 [manager]  
Will Schuester – 35 [assistant manager]  
Quinn Fabray – 21 [shift supervisor]  
Mike Chang – 24 [shift supervisor]  
Noah Puckerman – 19 [cashier]  
Santana Lopez – 19 [cashier]

Pharmacy Employees:  
Sandy – 55 [pharmacy manager]  
Emma Pillsbury – 32 [assistant pharmacist]  
Tina Cohen-Chang – 23 [tech]  
Rachel Berry – 20 [tech]  
Kurt Hummel – 18 [cashier]

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**Chapter One – Introduction**

Rite Aid is a drugstore chain headquartered in East Pennsboro Township, Pennsylvania. It's the largest drugstore chain on the East Coast and it's the third largest in the United States. It began in 1962 in Scranton under the name of Thrift D Discount Center. Alexander Grass founded it. The first store opened in September of 1962. By 1965, it expanded into five Northeast states. Just ten years later, it expanded into 267 locations in ten states. By 1981, it was named the third largest drugstore in the US. Two years later, it reached one billion dollars in sales for the first time. Rite Aid is ranked #100 on the Fortune 500 list. To this day, its competitors are CVS and Walgreens.

Hi, I'm Santana Lopez and I hate my job like a fat kid hates celery.

Now, if you were to stop in to _my _store, you wouldn't hear the usual, "Hello! Welcome to Rite Aid!" You would probably hear, "Hey, hurry up and get the fuck out of here." If you were walking aimlessly around the store, clearly confused, you wouldn't hear the usual, "What can I help you find?" You want to know what you'd hear? Nothing. Because I don't mind ignoring you even if you're standing two feet away from me. And don't ask for help. I'll play dumb. If you are gathering your bags from the counter and are waiting to hear the usual, "Thanks for shopping Rite Aid. Please come in again!" you will be waiting a hella long time. Because I don't give a fuck if you shop Rite Aid or not. And I for sure do not want you coming in again.

Oh shit, here comes Rachel fucking Berry, most annoying pharmacy tech alive. Scratch that, most annoying person alive.

"RuPaul."

"Satan."

"Was hoping you'd quit by now."

"I, on the other hand, was anxiously hoping you had gotten dismissed from your position," she huffed, stalking past me to get back to the pharmacy.

Everything she says is such a damn mouthful.

As you probably assumed, I _really _hate this job. I've been here for a year and a half. It used to be good before Sue fucking Sylvester took the manager position. Carl, our old boss, was awesome. And he was so fucking hot, too. But, to everyone's dismay, Sue is old and boring and she doesn't do shit. She sits in the office and plays Angry Birds all day.

Swear to God. I heard the little cheer when I was helping a customer at the photo center. Someone passed the level with a new high score.

I would love to quit this place, just get on the paging system, tap it twice and say, "Paging Dr. Faggot. Dr. Faggot!" But, unfortunately, I can't find a new job nor can I afford to lose this one. I have bills to pay. Places to go. Money to spend. My phone bill and gas bill pretty much take up half my paycheck. Not to mention my car insurance.

Maybe I should clarify. When I say gas bill, I mean gas for my car. I still live at home. Honest to God, I don't think I'd be able to afford food if I lived on my own. My parents aren't complaining, though. They just want to see me succeed; get a good future plan, shit like that. Which is why they forced me to go to college.

I hated high school. It was some of the most awkward and disturbing times of my life.

But I sucked it up. And now I'm in my second year and it's not _that _bad. I commute, so it could be worse.

One reason I haven't quit yet, and I hate to admit it, is the employees. My fellow workers stuck in this shithole. I actually sort of like some of them.

Sue just fucking sucks. She's like fifty and going through menopause. So she's bipolar as fuck.

Will's the assistant manager. We all call him Schue though. He's okay. Some days he's a cool guy, some days he's a complete doucher. I think it's because he hit the big 3-5 and has been pining over Emma since as long as I've worked here. It's pathetic, really.

Quinn. Oh Lord, Quinn. She's my best fucking friend. I love that girl. She turned 21 this year so we always go to Red Lobster on the Friday nights we both have off. Then we go back to her place and get drunk and watch _Zombieland. _"_Six people left in the world and one of them is Bill fucking Murray. I know that's not your middle name. I've been watching you since I was like… since I could masturbate. I mean, not that they're connected._"

Mike is the other shift supervisor, besides Quinn. He's pretty awesome. He's Asian so I like leaving him notes everywhere. For example:

_TO: Mike the Azn_  
_FROM: Santanaaaaaa_  
_SUBJECT: Where are they?_  
_WHERE ARE THOSE LITTLE AZN BABIES I'VE BEEN WAITING TO SEE? GET ON THAT. (Seriously, get on Tina, do her, and watch the seed grow)._

I'm a bit racist sometimes.

Last but surely not least, is Puck. He's the other cashier besides me. Puck can be quite the handful. He's a dick 75% of the time, a player 20% of the time, and a nice guy 5% of the time. But if I'm being honest, he makes the job more interesting and I'd much rather work with him than Sue. Oh, and his real name is Noah. Puckerman is his last name. Therefore, Puck.

The pharmacy people I could care less about. I hardly ever see them. Maybe because I avoid them at all costs. That Berry chick makes me want to kill myself.

Not that I ever would. The world needs a hot piece of ass such as myself.

Sandy is the pharmacist. This guy is like, 55 and lives with his mother and he's a creep. He watches me when I saunter past. I have a fantastic ass but still.

Emma is the same Emma that Schue's in love with. She's a couple years younger than him. She's a complete nutcase, though. She's like ridiculously OCD, which actually makes her perfect for the job. The pharmacy is always spotless and everyone gets their prescriptions filled quickly and correctly. Will thinks it's adorable. I think it's idiotic. There are meds for that shit.

Tina is Mike's boo. She's the one I want the azn babies popping out of. She's really nice though. Sometimes, she joins me and Quinn on our Friday nights. But she tells us to pick a new movie. We tell her to get the fuck out. Bitch don't appreciate the best movie ever made.

Then there's Berry. She's a year older than me but she acts like she's fucking ten years older. She takes her job way too seriously which pleases Sue but annoys the rest of us. She can be a real smart ass to the customers, too. Like, if you think I'm bad, you should hear her. The customers know when I'm insulting them. Berry insults them in a way where they don't even realize it until she's already moved on.

I would call it genius but that would be complimenting her. Which I do _not _do.

Kurt is the new kid and now he's the youngest. I used to be the youngest until he started. Puck has a good couple months on me. Kurt's a funny kid. Pretty sarcastic, which I appreciate. He's gay, too. He hasn't told anyone here—and why should he? Our opinions don't matter. But I have really awesome gaydar and while he hides in his slacks and button-down shirts, I know he's secretly dying to whip out the leather pants and blouses. I just happen to know these things.

Which is a perfect transition to my next topic of interest.

I like girls. And boys, occasionally. Which is just another reason why I continue to stay at Rite Aid. The college is conveniently fifteen minutes away. Which is great for me because I live smack dab in the middle of the two. It's also great because all the other college girls stop in to get food, tampons, condoms. Yes, I still flirt with the girls buying condoms. Just because they're strictly dickly that night doesn't mean they don't want to taste my rainbow a week later.

I realized I was a lesbian (sometimes bisexual) when I was fifteen and a freshman in high school. I know what you're thinking. This is so cliché. She gets a huge revelation as soon as she starts high school and everything suddenly makes sense.

Believe me, that's _not _what happened.

This is how it went down. It was volleyball week in gym. Let me just tell you that I hated gym and I hated volleyball. I'm one of those girls that think cheerleading is the only sport in the world. Gym involved douchebags making asses out of themselves and volleyball meant getting hit in the back of the head with the ball multiple times.

Anyway.

I was forced onto a team with Sugar Motta. I know, gayest ass name ever. This girl was _everywhere._ And halfway through the game, the ball decided to come towards me. I did one of those duck-and-cover moves only to be knocked on the floor anyway. The air was knocked out of me, I let out an extremely loud, "fuck"—to which I got bitched at for—and groaned even more when a body hit mine.

Sugar fucking Motta.

Apparently she had realized I wasn't going to get the ball.

Long story short, I realized how soft and warm her body was, thought about it for like, a week, and then it all "came clear." Thus began the days turned months turned years of checking out women.

Getting back to present day, Rite Aid allows me to flirt with hundreds of college girls a week. Okay, maybe not hundreds… in my dreams…

The funny part is, it doesn't stop with college girls. I'm sure you've heard of _Extreme Couponing_. That TV show on TLC. Yeah, everyone does that now. Including young mothers.

Like seriously, these women are in their late twenties and I'm into it. It makes me sound like Puck but they're hot.

MILFs for sure.

It's even better when they have some small child or a toddler with them. It's like, the mom comes up to the register with her kid _right there_, but I'm blatantly checking out her ass as she bends over the cart.

"Oh, hey sweetie. I'd like to suck on your mom's tits. You've done that before. Do you mind if I get the chance now?"

I sicken myself sometimes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Howdy, howdy! Glad to see how much of a response I got out of this! Thanks to everyone who favorited, subscribed, reviewed! You guys made my day.**

**PS: I'm going to let you know now, all the customers interactions with Santana are true-life stories. I've had all of it happen to me. -.-**

**PSS: I don't have a beta and I realize there are probably loads of mistakes, so just be aware that all those mistakes are on me. Sorry for any annoyance or anger it may cause you. **

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**Chapter Two – Sunday, 12 o'clock in the afternoon**

If you're just tuning in, you missed a morning full of couponers and sale signs and a whole array of curse words.

Shame on you.

Now, I just have to put up these couple suntan lotion signs and then I'll be done.

Can I go on a tangent for a second? Why the hell am I asking, I'm just going to do it. Why the _fuck_ is suntan lotion on sale in February? I'm pretty sure I'm not going to the beach this weekend. It makes no fucking sense.

The bell dinged and I grated my teeth. That has got to be the most annoying sound in the world.

Aside from Berry's voice.

I shoved the last couple of signs up, folding the sheets that were in my hand in half. I took my time walking down the aisle. Bitch can wait.

That's another thing that pisses me off. Either the idiotic customer doesn't ring the bell and starts shouting for help or they ring the bell fifteen times in a row. I'm not fucking deaf. And honest to God—

Holy good Lord in Heaven above. My dreams have come true.

Look at those legs. Jesus Christ, how fucking long are they?

_And dat ass! _Lord, that ass.

Thank the Lord for the hot girls that wear tiny shorts in the winter.

My eyes stayed glued to her backside as she dug through her wallet. I kicked the swinging door open, tossed my trash away and spun around, a grin on my face.

"Hello!" I hated the pep that had attacked my voice. It happened after working here so long.

"Hey." A slow, lazy grin spread over her face.

Dear Lord.

"You find everything okay?" I asked, reaching for one of her items.

"Yeah, for the most part."

"Alright. Do you have a Wellness+ card?"

"Er, no…"

I nodded. "Okay."

You see, if a customer doesn't have our savings card, we're supposed to try and sign them up for it. Do the whole, "You can sign up for free and it only takes a couple seconds. Now, with the card, you get all of the sale prices. You also get a point for every dollar you spend. You get twenty-five points for every prescription you fill here. With 250 points, you can get ten percent off Rite Aid brand products. With 500 points, you get ten percent off of everything in the store—except state regulated items. With 1,000 points, you get twenty percent off everything."

Blah, blah, blah. I don't give a fuck.

The blonde moved in front of me and I watched her arm go behind her head and her fingers scratch the back of her neck. Her sweatshirt lifted, revealing a sliver of pale skin.

I think I just died a little.

Suddenly, I could picture my hand running over her stomach, feeling the toned muscles that I knew laid beneath that clothing. I shuddered and snapped my eyes back to her items.

Trojan Fire & Ice condoms, Tampax regular tampons, and an XL Reese's bar.

I scanned the first item before she spoke again.

"Can I get a pack of Newport Box 100's?"

I nodded and spun around, bending over slightly to grab the cigarettes. I dropped the pack on the counter before resuming scanning the other stuff.

"Necessities of life right here," I said, gesturing to the stuff littering the counter.

Her eyes sparkled as she grinned. It was then that I noticed just how blue they were. Almost a cerulean blue. Why the fuck was this girl so beautiful?

I mean, don't get me wrong. I see a lot of beautiful women come in to Rite Aid, but this girl was easily the most beautiful out of the bunch.

"To be honest, only the chocolate's for me. The other stuff is for my sister." She shrugged, making the gesture adorable.

I froze. This was how I was going to get fired. Selling tobacco to minors. Just last week, an employee from our sister store across town got fired for not asking for ID. Turns out, the company sent a seventeen year old in there to do a test. The guy failed.

"How old is your sister?" I asked. Honestly, she could blatantly lie right now and I would have no idea. But I might as well ask.

"She's eighteen. I have to buy her cigarettes for her. Our mom doesn't appreciate her smoking but could care less if I do. But I don't so…" She shifted and waved her head, dismissing the idea of her mother not caring what she does.

"Doesn't she smell it on her?"

At Rite Aid, we're not really allowed to have deep conversations with customers. Only small talk. That doesn't stop the old men from telling me their wives died and now I have to find them a new gal.

Seriously.

She shook her head. "She only smokes outside and not at home. I think it's because she overloads her perfume. It makes me gag. Every time she comes within five feet of me, my stomach starts clenching."

I laughed. "Sound toxic. But a good plan on her part. I can't sell these to minors." I held up the pack as I talked about it. I scanned the barcode and the prompt for scanning the customer's identification came up. "Speaking of, I need to see your ID."

A small smile came to her lips as she turned slightly, giving me the perfect view of her trying to wrestle her license out of her back pocket.

I watched as she twisted and shifted her ass, trying to find the perfect stance to get it out. I could help her… and get a feel in when I'm there. My mouth opened, the words on the tip of my tongue.

"Got it!" she exclaimed, holding it up in the air, triumph written all over her face.

I grinned back, her smile infectious. She started to hand me her license and I shook my head, pointing to the cred card machine thing. I don't fucking know what it's called. Sue me.

"You slide it here," I told her.

"How?" she muttered, staring at the machine in confusion. She started sliding it the wrong way and I grabbed her head, stopping her before she could scratch it.

"You've never had someone ask for your ID?" I looked up at her in shock.

She blushed. "They do ask for it. But I always just hand it to them and they punch in my birthdate."

"I can do that, too," I replied, dropping her hand from my grasp.

"Well, no, maybe I should learn in case I come in here and buy cigarettes again."

I smiled inwardly to myself. She better come in again. I wouldn't mind undressing her with my eyes for a second time.

"Sure. You slide in on the side here, not up top," I replied, pointing.

She fit her card to the side, looking up at me for approval.

"No."

She flipped the card over.

"No."

She flipped the card around.

"No."

She flipped it around again.

"No. You tried that one already." I took her card in my fingers, resting the palm of my hand lightly on the back of hers. "Here." I twisted it so the card was upside down. "See this black strip? That's how you slide it." I flipped it the correct way and slid it through. It beeped once before it accepted the cigarettes into the transaction. "There," I smiled.

Her cheeks flushed pink again before accepting her license back. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's quite alright. Believe me when I say you weren't the only customer whose hand I had to hold. I'm used to helping people."

"What do you mean you held other customer's hands?" Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

I smirked. "The photo counter," I nodded in the direction of it, "is always filled with people who have no idea what they're doing. So I get to hover over the customer and do everything for them. I was being sarcastic when I said I hold their hands. You are actually the first customer where I did actually hold a hand."

Her beautiful grin reappeared. "I feel special."

I laughed. "As you should."

Movement caught my eye. I looked over her shoulder to see a regular with a cart overflowing with shit. My mind screamed in protest. Why could I enjoy a ten minute conversation with a beautiful woman? I work hard here… sometimes. Can't this be my reward?

She caught my gaze and glanced back. "Oh gosh, I'm holding up the line. I'm sorry."

"You're fine, darling," the older gentleman said, a cocky grin on his face.

I growled inwardly.

"How much do I owe you?" she spoke.

"$23.44." I watched as she pulled out a twenty and a five and quickly processed the transaction.

"Here's your receipt. Have a good day, okay?" I grinned, shoving the bag across the counter towards her.

"You too," she smiled, heading out the door. They swooshed open and I watched as her shorts hugged her ass in all the right places.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **So I tried uploading this earlier today but it wasn't working. Anyway, here's chapter three. And yes, THESE CUSTOMERS EXIST. True stories, each one of them. Also, I noticed I'm switching between past and present tense a lot in this. I was having trouble since I've never really written a story in first person with actually thoughts coming to the surface. I apologize in advance. Just try to ignore the mistakes. Drop me a review if you have any suggestions!

* * *

**Chapter Three – Sunday, 10 o'clock in the morning**

Did I mention I hate Sundays? I fucking hate Sundays.

Luckily, I finished the signs last night so I don't have to worry about that. Especially since it was couponer galore today. I swear to God, everyone and their mothers are out here today. All because every Procter and Gamble product was on sale today and apparently the coupons in today's paper were really good.

Don't get me wrong. I don't mind _all _couponers. I'm actually pretty friendly with some of them. We have small conversations and they're always very respecting of other customers in line.

But this bitch. She's just getting on my last fucking nerve.

"Okay, this transaction is going to be the Pantene and Herbal Essences."

I rolled my eyes. I don't understand why you need twelve bottles of shampoo and conditioner anyway.

Movement caught my eye and I saw a head of blonde hair join the growing line. She caught my eye and grinned. Well, I didn't think I'd see her again.

"Wait, wait. That +Up Reward didn't go through."

I glared up at the customer. I check the register screen. Coupon has expired. "This expired…" I trailed off, looking for the date, "last week. I can't accept this." I handed it to her.

She looked at it, not moving. "I was told you accept week-late coupons."

"By who?"

"The kid with the Mohawk."

I gritted my teeth. Fucking Puck. Just 'cause he has this thing for much older women doesn't mean he can make my life a living hell. "Fine," I muttered.

The bitch grinned. These are the times I really wished I could hit customers.

"Wait, wait."

"What?" I almost shouted. A guy in the line behind her threw up an arm, clearly frustrated.

"Did the Pantene come up buy one, get one half?"

"Yes," I muttered. I stabbed my finger to the bottom of the credit card machine. "You saved $11.97 right there. Okay?"

"Okay. Continue."

Fucking bitch. I noticed the blonde letting an older couple go in front of her and I smiled. Soon enough, I was going to be able to talk to her.

"Credit," the customer said, handing me her Visa.

"No, you slide it there," I pointed, letting anger drip into my voice.

She rolled her eyes and slid her card. Minutes passed as she dug through her purse. I checked the register before looking at her.

"You have to hit the green button for credit."

She stabbed at the button and collected her bags. I handed her the receipt, not bothering to tell her how many +Up Rewards she received. "Thank you," she muttered, sarcasm etched into her words.

"Uh huh," I replied, not bothering to tell her to have a good day. Bitch could slip on one of her many damn shampoo bottles for all I care.

The next two customers were relatively easy, just Depends for the one and Nyquil for the other. After apologizing for the previous customer, they left.

The older couple bought multiple cards, birthdays they said. I quickly flipped each card over before scanning the bar code. They were pleasant, saying they wished customers wouldn't be so difficult. I agreed vehemently. Soon enough, they left, too.

Frosted Flakes hit the counter. "These are two for $5, right?"

"Yep," I said, not bothering to check. Four customers had already gotten them this morning. "Do you have the Wellness+ card?" I continued.

He looked up at me, confused. "No…"

I sighed. "You need the card to get the sale price."

"You just told me it was two for $5."

I bristled at his tone. "Yes, with the Wellness+ card."

"It didn't say that!"

I pointed to the Mentos. "Right there. 'With Wellness+ card.' It says that on all the sale stickers."

"It didn't say that on the big sign out front."

I rolled my eyes. There always had to be _one _customer who started bitching about the signs out front. What he's referring to is the marquee boards out front, where we pick four sale items—normally cereal, soda, detergent, and toilet paper—and advertise the sale price. We have two permanent boards right now, a shingles vaccination one and a flu shot one. So we only had Frosted Flakes and Tide advertised.

"We don't have enough room to put 'with Wellness+ card' on each sign."

"That's not my problem."

"And it's not ours. Do you want to sign up for a Wellness+ card or not?" I hissed.

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "No, this is bullshit. You can be sure I'm complaining and you're getting fired."

My hands shook. "Looking forward to it."

He scoffed and stormed out the door, his shoulder catching on the one door when it didn't open fast enough.

I picked up the cereal and slammed them into the Back to Shelf basket. Stupid fucking asshole. Just take the five fucking seconds to sign up for the damn card and you get the fucking sale price.

I tried to still my shaking hands but it was no use.

"Hey there."

I looked up to see the beautiful blonde. I smiled, or at least, I thought I did. It was probably more of a grimace. "Hey."

"Having fun?"

I rolled my eyes. "Loads."

Her eyes sparkled. "Are you working by yourself?"

"Pretty much, yes. Our manager refuses to leave the office," I growled, shaking my head.

I picked up her box of Excedrin, fumbling the find the barcode. Why the fuck couldn't my hands work? I dropped the box and groaned.

A cool hand touched mine, clasping it. I looked up, shocked, to see her frowning. "Relax. Take a deep breath."

I obliged her, thinking 'why the hell not?' and closed my eyes. I took a gulp of air into my lungs, holding it for a couple of seconds before releasing it. I opened my eyes to find her smiling at me.

"There," she grinned, releasing my hand. I frowned at the loss of contact. "I'm in no hurry. I like talking with you, so please, take your time."

A small smile fell on my face as I nodded and managed to scan her Excedrin and Gatorade this time.

"So, what were those two customers bitching about?" she asked, pulling out her debit card.

I hit the Credit/Debit button on the register. "Pretty much, we have a savings card. The first customer was just an OCD couponer who didn't think her total was going to be that much." I shrugged. "Not my fault she didn't calculate it correctly."

"What about that other guy?"

"Mr. Douchey McDouche Pants? God, don't even get me started. We get a handful of customers like that who feel like it's their jobs to make our lives a living hell. It seriously takes two seconds to sign up for a card. I don't see why he couldn't do that."

"Should I sign up for a card?"

Her expression made me smile. "If you want to. I need your license." Shoving her receipt in the bag, I took her ID and scanned the back. Brittany S. Pierce. I'd have to remember that. "I need a phone number."

As she told me the number, movement caught my attention. An older woman was over in photo, glaring at me. I averted my eyes quickly, looking back at Brittany. "You're all good," I said. "Just remember—"

"Excuse me!"

What. The. Fuck. I whipped my head towards the woman down by photo.

"Yes?" I said through my teeth.

"Is there anyone who can help me down here?"

"I'm the only one up front so you're going to have to wait until I'm done here," I growled. What was wrong with people today?

"I've been standing here for five minutes!"

"There was a line. If you had waited up here, I could have assisted you sooner."

Brittany touched my arm. I looked up at her. "Stop," she mouthed.

"Well, when you're done socializing, I'd like a little help down here," she muttered.

I tilted my head and lifted my eyebrows, directing my gaze to Brittany. She shrugged, a small smile on her face.

I really think God hates me. He puts a beautiful, leggy blonde in my life only to tease me with brief conversations interrupted by angry customers.

No me gusta.

"Thank you very much for your assistance and for explaining the benefits of the Wellness+ card," she said, louder than she was talking earlier. I watched her sneakily glance toward the woman and I grinned.

"No problem. I'm glad I could be of service to you," I said, equally loud. My face flushed for a second, actually forming a mental image of _servicing _her. Dear Lord…

She grinned and hooked her bag in her hand. "I'll see you again soon."

"I'll be here," I smiled.

She waved, skipping out the door. I watched, smiling to myself. Maybe God did like me.

"Excuse me!"

Maybe not.

"What do you want?" I muttered, walking over there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four – Tuesday, 10 o'clock in the morning**

"You guys are just putting the front away, okay? The back's done. It was a small truck today," Schue told me and Puck.

"Where's my lover?" I asked.

"Quinn comes in tonight, Santana," he muttered, exasperation leaking into his voice.

"Who's here now?" Puck asked, adjusting his vest.

"Mike."

"Chang-a-lang," I sang.

Schue shook his head. "I'm heading out. See you guys."

As soon as the doors shut, I turned to Puck. "You're running register."

"Fuck no."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'll let you touch these bad boys," I grinned, gesturing to my breasts.

His mouth dropped open. "… promise?"

"Yes."

"Fine."

Puck's been trying to feel me up since he started last year. And since I'm such a tease, I've been making him sweat. There's no way in hell that his hands are going to be touching this body.

Truck days are the worst. It seems that all the customers come in on Tuesdays just to spite us.

With my arms full of Tresemme, I went down the shampoo aisle. I guess this shit is going on sale soon.

"That's a lot of Tresemme."

Jesus Christ. I jumped, dropping a bottle of No Frizz Conditioner. Foul words flew out of my mouth.

I hated the ninja customers. I get in my own little world when I'm putting this shit away. But no, customers had to sneak up and break my concentration.

Well, that little bit of concentration that it takes to do this job. I've been in a zombie-like state before and have still been able to do the required tasks.

I bent over the same time as the stranger. He or she (most likely a she—look at those hands) got there first.

I stood up and a grin broke across my face. Just the person I wanted to see.

"Sorry," she murmured. "Didn't mean to scare you."

How did I not recognize her voice? It was so distinct. "You're good. Just shove that right there," I gestured with my elbow to the spot on the shelf. I watched as she placed it gently there and spun the bottle around so the label was facing the front. "You're a pro. You should definitely work here."

She laughed. "I have a job but I'll keep that in mind."

I shoved the armful of shampoo onto the shelf, not making it nearly as nice as she did.

"So, what are you doing here today?" I asked, turning to face her.

"Just shopping."

"Are you stalking me?"

She blushed, the tips of her ears growing bright red.

"Oh, dear Lord," I grinned.

"No! It's just that… I came in last night and was surprised that you didn't work. So I asked that blonde and she said you work Sunday mornings, Tuesday afternoons into the night, and then Saturday nights."

I lifted my eyebrows. "You asked about me?"

She blushed an even deeper shade than before. "Maybe."

I grinned, extremely pleased. Obviously there was some kind of attraction for her or she wouldn't purposely be coming in on days I work. I wonder just how deep that attraction ran.

"Whoa. Hello there."

I looked to my left and saw Puck sauntering his way towards us, his stupid smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes. Here we go.

"San, who's your friend?" he asked, his eyes scanning Brittany's body.

"Brittany," I muttered, giving him a dirty look.

Her head whipped to me, surprise written over her face.

"How's it going, Brittany?" Puck said, taking a step closer to us.

I blanched but Brittany remained smiling and polite. "Good, thanks. How are you?"

"Fantastic." His eyes scanned over her body once again. They stopped at her breasts. I didn't understand how she remained so calm under his gaze.

I'm not sure if you readers have seen the show _Jersey Shore_, but I can tell you now Puck strives to be like Mike. Now, don't chastise me. I've only seen the show a couple of times when nothing else was on. I'm not a huge fan of reality shows. Well, except for _Mob Wives_. That's my guilty pleasure.

In Puck's small brain, Mike is the man. He's an idol in Puck's life. The problem is, Puck is the only person on Earth who likes Mike, much less thinks he's the man. So, Puck ends up being a creep. And none of the girls here like that. Hell, I get more response than he does.

I'm sure he'd get a better response if he actually had the Situation's abs.

I tuned out the conversation and glanced over the top of the aisles. If I stand on my toes, I can just barely see the register. Except if there's a midget.

Which we do have. One of our customers is a little person. But she's nice so I never say shit about her.

A head whipped in my direction and I instinctively dropped to the balls of my feet. "Puck."

He ignored me.

"Puck."

"What?" he hissed.

"You have a customer."

"Do I?" His glare made me smirk.

"Looks like you're not getting a feel…" I trailed off.

He paused. Glanced between Brittany and me. Then sighed. "Fine."

I grinned in triumph as he walked away. Turning around, I looked at Brittany. "So…"

Her hand shot out. I looked down at it before looking up at her. "Wha—"

"I know your name and somehow you know mine. We have to shake to be properly introduced."

I laughed and shook her hand, holding it a second longer than necessary.

"How do you know my name?"

"When I signed you up for the Wellness+ card, I remembered it."

"Why?" A smile was tugging at her lips.

Thank God for my darker skin so she can't see that I'm blushing like crazy. And who the hell did this girl think she was? Santana Lopez does not blush.

"I figured I better remember the name of my stalker," I said, a shit-eating grin plastered on my face.

This girl blushed like crazy. Apparently it was a reaction she couldn't stop.

"Are you buying something today?" I gestured to her empty hands, confused.

She shook her head. "Oh, no. I needed my prescription filled."

My eyes narrowed. "When did you start coming to this store?"

"Last week. I just moved to the area and this store is an easy five minutes from my apartment, so I figured I'd switch pharmacies."

"Brittany to the pharmacy at your convenience," the paging system squawked. Sandy's gay tone and the robotic effect of the page always created a hilarious announcement.

"Speaking of," she grinned. "I'll see you later."

"Have fun back there with RuPaul," I laughed.

"RuPaul?"

"Rachel. We dislike each other a hell of a lot. So I call her RuPaul, and many other names. She calls me Satan." I shrugged. "Fun times."

She frowned. "That doesn't sound too fun."

"Believe me, it is. But hey, have a good day. I can see a line forming."

Brittany walked down the aisle and peered around the corner. "Looks like it. Good luck."

I smiled. "Thanks."

She headed the opposite way as I darted behind the register. "I can help the next person here!"

After ringing up a couple customers, the line thinned and I put my 'Next Register' sign up as Puck grabbed the last pair.

The automatic doors burst open and a short-haired blonde sped through. She caught my eye and grinned.

I narrowed my eyes. "Fabray!"

"Hello to you too, Santana. And how are you today?" she said, her tone sarcastic.

"Why'd you tell that Brittany girl when I work?"

She walked past me, throwing her coat behind the counter. "The blonde?" she asked, shrugging into her vest.

I nodded, crossing my arms.

"Because you need someone besides me in your life." Her hazel eyes met mine. "And I know you're lonely."

My heart dropped, knowing what she was saying was true. I may have this tough exterior and front, but I want someone in my life.

"She's not gay."

Quinn smirked. "You never know. And I thought Santana Lopez could turn anyone gay, or straight for gay men…" she trailed off, grinning.

I laughed. "Hug me, boo."

She laughed as well, pulling me into a hug. I felt her lips brush my forehead and I smiled, burying my head into her chest.

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**A/N: **I love the Quinntana friendship so, it'll be in here a lot.

This may be boring so you don't have to read this. I've been working at Rite Aid for almost two years now and when I started, I was getting like 40+ hours. A new manager came in and I hate her fucking guts, omg, and then I started working 17 hours a week. The Sunday, Tuesday, Saturday thing. I got another job, right? (I have fucking bills, bro) and then she got mad cause I started coming in late on Saturdays even though I told her countless times I couldn't start til 3:30. So... **I'M FUCKING QUITTING THAT SHITHOLE. **On Saturday. I'm so excited. I have my letter of resignation typed up and everything. -flailing and hysterical laughter- God, this is gonna be the best.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter! This isn't one of my favorites. Leave a review! How do you like the story so far? Do you like the Quinntana friendship? Do you like how creepy Puck is? Blah blah blah. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **That awkward moment when you forget you have a story in process. Sorry I haven't updated in a couple days! Enjoy the chapter, let me know what you think. Have any questions? .com

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**Chapter Five – Saturday, 7 o'clock in the evening**

"You seem to always be busy."

I was soon starting to learn her voice. I knew it was her before I ever had to turn around. But I did anyway. I liked looking at her.

"You seem to be coming in on the days I work a lot." My eyes scanned her body. She was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, an outfit so simple yet she made it phenomenal.

I caught her grin. She ran her fingers over the pile of signs on my cart. "Don't you do these Sunday?"

"Normally we do them Saturday nights since Sundays we get so busy with customers. The one—and I seriously mean one—Saturday I had off, Puck worked. And Puck sucks at his job. Which is why I'll never have off Saturday again." I shook my head, annoyed.

Puck seriously did suck at his job. The only thing he was vaguely good at was running register but he chatted with customers way too long, which is why I always had to jump on as backup. Kid needed to get his priorities straight.

Brittany noticed I was deep within my thoughts and touched my arm. I snapped my head up to look at her.

"Tell me 'bout yourself."

My mind was still reeling from that simple touch. I blinked. "What?"

"I want to know more about you."

"What is this, a date?"

An exasperated noise came from her mouth. "No. But I figured if I'm going to be seeing you a lot, I want to know more about you."

"I thought stalkers knew everything about their victims. Hence, the word stalker." Insert shit-eating grin here.

She pouted. "C'mon."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Hi, I'm Santana Lopez. I'm nineteen and I've worked here for a year and a half."

"Are you going to school?"

I nodded. "Ohio State in Lima. Like, fifteen minutes away."

"What are you majoring in?"

"You ask a hell of a lot of questions," I commented.

"Sorry. This is exciting, though! I like discovering new things about people."

I smiled. "Alright. I'm majoring in Business and minoring in Spanish and Music slash Theater."

"Why Business?"

I put up the last sign in the deodorant section and shuffled my cart down to shaving. "I wanted to own a business."

"What kind of business?"

Her eyes were sparkling again. I smiled. "Honestly, I had no idea. Maybe some sort of counseling group."

"Like a psychiatrist?"

"Sort of. But without the years and years of schooling."

She nodded, thoughtful. "Do you not want to own a business anymore?"

"Not really. I have this huge dream of moving to LA."

"Why?"

"It's warm," I laughed, joining her giggles. "No, really. That's my minors coming into play. There's a good many Spanish speakers there or I could try to get a recording contract."

Her eyes widened. "You sing?"

"Occasionally."

"How do you know you're good?"

"There was a scout at my high school. He caught me and told me to continue pursuing it. Took Jesse St. James instead."

"That's a fun name," she grinned.

"The guy was a complete douchebag. Thought he was better than everyone else."

"Well, wasn't he? He got picked…"

I stared at her, trying to decide if she was making a joke or really trying to insult me. She shrugged and I sighed. I guess she was right. He got picked after all.

"What about you? Tell me about yourself," I told her, ripping another sign off my page.

"Okay. Hi. I'm Brittany S. Pierce. Which everyone gets confused with Britney Spears. It's horrible." If not for the dejected look on her face, I would have thought she was joking. "I used to go to Ohio State up until this semester. I got a scholarship for track and field which was cool because I'm a really fast runner. I went for law because my dad wanted me to."

"I would make a great lawyer. I'm forceful and I'd totally look hot in a suit," I smirked.

She laughed and continued. "I knew I wasn't going to be a good lawyer but I went anyway because I didn't want to make my dad feel bad. He realized I wasn't happy so he said I could transfer to the first school of my choice, Wright State."

I held up a hand. "I'm sorry but you're going to Wright?"

She looked confused. "Yeah, why?"

"Brittany. That's forty-five minutes away. You seriously drive that fucking far?"

"It's worth it. Besides, the apartments were cheaper here. And my roommate's cool."

"What's her name?"

"_His _name is Blaine."

My eyes widened. She lives with a guy? That's never a good sign. I was crushing on a taken girl. Why did this always happen to me? And why was she encouraging it? She came in here all the time. She must have known I was flirting with her. I'm not that sneaky. When I wants something, I'm going to have it.

She must have noticed my expression. "He's gay."

Everything deflated out of me. Well, all that panic was for nothing. I stuck up a couple more signs, finishing shaving. "Interesting. What are you majoring in?"

"Dance. And I'm minoring in Physical Education. Just in case I can't find a job as a dancer or after I retire, I can be an elementary school gym teacher."

It was my turn to look shocked. "You dance?"

"Yeah, I've been dancing like, my whole life.

"Let me see," I demanded.

She laughed. "Let me hear you sing."

I frowned. "I asked your first."

"And I asked you second," she grinned.

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe one day you will. I normally don't do impromptu performance in the middle of Rite Aid."

"Awe, why not?" she said, her bottom lip sticking out.

My eyes stared at that lip far longer than they should have. My mind filled with images of my tongue darting across it or my teeth gently nibbling it.

I cleared my throat. "I'll get fired."

"Fine," she sighed. "One day."

"I said maybe."

She rolled her eyes. "Did you always know you wanted to pursue dancing as a career?" I asked.

"Yeah. Actually, I was going to minor in Physical Therapy. That's where you really get the money and I'm good at giving massages and stuff."

Images of me lying naked in her bed, her straddling my ass and her hands twisted and kneaded my muscles caused my jaw to drop. I quickly recovered and smiled. "That is a good paying career."

She shrugged. "Maybe I will take some classes for that. Who knows?"

"Next aisle!" I exclaimed, rounding the corner and moving down to Specialty Bath. She trailed behind me, looking at all the products.

"It's slow tonight," she murmured, looking around.

"It always dies off around this time. It's really nice. I get everything done."

"What do you have to do after this?"

"Change ads, put newspapers together, bullshit stuff like that." I gestured to her once again empty handed. "Not buying anything? Pharmacy's closed so you can't get a script or drop off."

She glanced down at her hands and laughed. "I was going to get Tide but you distracted me."

"Go get it! I'll be right here and then I can ring you up."

"Alright, alright," she said, walking off.

I looked back down to my signs and quickly shoved the next three sections up. Good thing there was only twelve or so. I wanted to be done. Schue would be proud tomorrow morning.

"Ready!" Brittany sang, poking her head around the corner.

I walked with her to the register, scanning the detergent.

"_I'm feeling sexy and free. Like glitters raining on me. You're like a shot of pure—_"

"Sorry," Brittany muttered, grabbing her phone quickly. "Hey."

A loud buzz was the response as she cringed. She pulled a twenty out of her pocket and handed it to me.

"You realize I can't buy alcohol… right?" she spoke to the other end.

I laughed to myself as I heard the "fuck you" shouted to her. She caught my expression and rolled her eyes playfully.

"Love you too, sis," she laughed. "I'm trying to pay here so how about I call you back in ten minutes?" She pulled the phone back and stared at it, confused. "She just hung up on me!"

I laughed louder as I handed her the change. "Good luck."

"Thanks. I'll see you." She waved before the doors swallowed her.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Hey, guys! Sorry for not updating quickly. Finals were this week. D: Hope you enjoy this chapter!

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**Chapter Six – Tuesday, 3 o'clock in the afternoon**

The good thing about truck days? When I work with Puck, I can hide in the back of the store and take my time putting shit away. Turns out, Puck came in fifteen minutes ago but as soon as his foot was through that door, I yelled that I had to pee and took off. Some lazy ass, probably Schue, didn't put a tote of cough drops away, so being the nice person I am, I grabbed it.

"Hey gorgeous. Back to chat with good ol' Puck?"

I snorted, rolling my eyed as I barely heard his pathetic come-on. Kid needed a lot more practice than that. I grabbed another bag of Halls and shoved it onto the hook.

A hand brushed down my back, nails scraping against the fabric of my vest. My eyes widened as I dropped the next bag I had grabbed. "What the fuck are you—" I stopped, spinning around to see sparkling blue eyes that could only belong to Brittany.

"What time do you get off?" she asked, her voice hushed.

A lopsided grin hit my face. "That's what she said."

She rolled her eyes. "Off work, San. Work."

My body flushed with heat. The nick-name sounded a hell of a lot better coming out of her mouth than it did coming out of Puck's.

"About an hour, why?"

"Help me shop."

She grabbed my hand and pulled me down the aisle. Once again, I thanked God I was born Hispanic. This blush was eating me away.

"What are you shopping for?" I asked as she pulled me down the food aisle.

"Party. My roommate, Blaine, well, his boyfriend Sebastian is having a party and I'm supposed to bring food and juice to mix vodka with."

"I didn't realize people ate at party's anymore. The ones I go to are drinking, dancing, and fucking," I grinned.

"Sebastian is a very big homebody. He needs everything to look presentable."

"Well, let's start over here." I turned us around. "This juice is fucking amazing to mix vodka with," I said, holding up a bottle of Welch's Pineapple Orange Apple juice.

She grabbed it from me and picked up cranberry juice, too. "Food. Direct me!" she stated.

I laughed and pulled her to the chips. "Chips and cheese curls are the party food."

She nodded. "That they are."

A question popped into my mind as I stared at her. "What's your favorite movie?"

She glanced at me. "Random."

"Just answer it."

"_Step Up._"

"Which one?"

She paused, thinking. "I guess the second one. That has the best dancing. The first one has the best chemistry, though."

"I would tap Channing Tatum in a second," I said honestly.

Her laugh rang out. "Me too. He's so gorgeous."

I nodded. "Favorite TV show?"

"Grab those Cheetos and I'll answer it."

I grabbed the crunchy deliciousness that was a Cheeto and turned to her, waiting.

"_Vampire Diaries_," she said after a moment.

"Why?" I was genuinely curious. I've never seen the show. Heard about it all the time but haven't started watching it. It was on my three hundred page list of things I need to watch.

And no, that is not an exaggeration.

"It's a good story. Every episode surprises me. And Stefan is beautiful. Damon, too. I have a thing for brunettes. I'd probably get with Elena, too."

My heart soared with hope. She'd probably get with a girl, which means she'd probably get with me. Now was the time to really bring on the flirting.

"She is pretty hot. Although, I prefer blondes. Is Caroline her name?" I vaguely remembered the blonde character from scrolling the IMDb page.

Brittany's eyes widened slightly. "Yeah, Caroline's her name."

I smiled. "Thought so. Favorite music?"

"Like, type of music?"

"Type, band, song, whatever."

"I honestly listen to everything. Right now, I love that song _Blackout _by Breathe Carolina."

I put the Cheetos down, held up a finger and pulled my phone out. Thank the good Lord for blessing me with an iPhone. I scrolled through my songs quickly, hitting play on what I was looking for. I turned the volume up over the sound of the coolers.

Brittany's eyes widened as she grinned. Soon enough, her feet were shuffling over the floor, moonwalking almost as good as the great MJ. I was honestly impressed. When the chorus came, she jumped before her arms and upper body rolled to the bass. I laughed as she grabbed my arm, trying to twirl me around.

"No, no," I shook my head. I did not dance. Well, I did with drinks in me.

She only smiled before stepping behind me. I gasped as I felt her hips meet my ass before they started rolling. Her arms wrapped around my waist, pushing my vest away from my body.

I moved with her, figuring this was a great way to get fired. My arms wound around her neck.

She turned me around, our hips fused together as the bridge slowed down slightly. I gripped the collar of her shirt, my other hand in her hair.

Movement caught my eye as I saw two teenage boys gawking. I recognized them immediately. They came in every other day to buy candy and chips and soda.

They were drooling. Honest to God, drooling.

See, these kids had a major crush on me. They just started high school so their hormones were in a rage. I always caught them trying to peek down my shirt. It doesn't help that I wear low-cut shirts without camis. I got to show off these girls whenever I can.

"Hey, boys," I grinned, stepping back from Brittany but keeping my hand clenched on her shirt. I paused the music. "What's up?"

"Uh…" the shorter one said, his mouth still hanging open.

"We just needed chips but you can continue if you want to," the other grinned. He was always a cocky little shit.

"Grab your chips," I muttered, pulling Brittany away from the shelves.

"Are you going to ring us up?" he asked, a hopeful expression on his face.

"Puck's up there."

"Puck's an ass. He called me Tubs the other day," the shorter one complained.

I laughed quietly to myself. If these boys weren't friendly, I would call him Tubs, too.

"Aren't you a little young to be saying that?" Brittany spoke up.

"I'm fourteen," he muttered.

"C'mon, man. Let's go. They need to get back to grinding on each other." One point for the cocky one.

I rolled my eyes. "Have fun masturbating to it later tonight."

His face grew bright red. One point for Santana.

They took off and I turned back to Brittany. "They're such little assholes."

"I thought they were pretty cute."

"Tell them that and they'll rape you," I scoffed.

She laughed and picked up her drinks from the floor. I blinked. I hadn't even seen her put them down. Of course, I was too busy staring at her hips and ass.

"You're quite the dancer," I commented.

Her smile blinded me. "Thank you. You are, too."

I scoffed.

"You are! That was really good. You really can feel the beat."

_You can really move your hips_. I was about to say it, I honestly could have, but I didn't. It might have been a tad inappropriate considering those hips were moving against mine.

"Well, thanks," I finally managed to say. "I'm sure I'm going to get fired for doing that."

She laughed. "Those boys are tattling right now."

"Oh, God, probably," I groaned.

"So, what was up with all the questions?"

I picked up the Cheetos and grabbed some sour cream and onion chips as well. She nodded her approval. "I judge people based on their answers."

"Grab the crinkle cut, too," she said, waiting until I grabbed the bag to speak again. "And how badly are you judging me?

"Not too bad."

She smiled. "So I did good?"

"You did wonderfully," I grinned.

We carried her items up to the front, her taking one step for every two steps I took. I smiled, watching our feet.

I was pretty sure I was falling for this girl, which is crazy because I had known her for what? Two weeks at most? That's just fucking ridiculous. Why was this girl invading my mind and making me fall deeper?


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Shoutout to Funsponge for taking the time to review every chapter. I appreciate that. You guys are seriously a wonderful audience. I think I have crushes on all of you. Just saying. ;) Enjoy!

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**Chapter Seven – Saturday, 9 o'clock in the evening**

"Quinn."

She flipped over another page of signs.

"Quinn."

Still nothing.

"Quinn!"

"What?"

I grinned. "I have to pee."

She rolled her eyes. "Dear Lord, San. Go."

I'm going to tell you a secret. Most of the time when I say I have to pee, I really don't have to. I take three bathroom breaks a day but I really only need to take one. The other two times, I go in the bathroom, sit on the toilet, and go on my phone. It's fun trolling the Internet and Facebook. And then I wash my hands for a really long time.

I really only do this when I work with Sue or Schue. Quinn and Mike don't really care what I do and they actually let me take a quick dinner break. So I don't torment them too much.

After I finished peeing—because this was indeed an actual pee break—I washed my hands and shoved the door open.

Saturday nights aren't as bad as most would think they are. For one thing, the pharmacy closed at six so I no longer have to hear Berry's obnoxious voice calling so and so to the pharmacy at his or her convenience. And I don't have to see that Gonzo-sized nose.

As I looked at the gates covering the windows, something crashed across the store.

"What the fuck is Fabray doing?" I muttered to myself.

High-pitched squealing and laughter floated down the main aisle. I glanced down the food aisle, only to see no one. First aid? No. Candy? Nope. Toys? Yes, yes there were.

Damn kids. I rolled my eyes.

I normally tended to ignore the kids that were fucking around in the store. As long as they cleaned up after they were done, they could play baseball with the light saber or try and juggle with the Nerf balls.

Hell, I attempt to juggle them.

Not very well but still…

A head of blonde chucked one of those Nerf balls into the next aisle, probably knocking down some birthday cards in the process.

I knew that blonde hair anywhere. It was the color of sunshine and it shined in Rite Aid's fluorescent lighting. It reached down to her back and hung perfectly straight. My eyes took in her clothes. It was February but she was wearing tiny shorts and a long sleeve top. I knew before she even turned around that cleavage was definitely showing.

"Brittany?" I asked, not understanding why she was here.

She spun around, slowly and very unsteadily. Her pupils were dilated and her grin was lopsided. "Sanny!" she yelled, rushing to me.

My eyes shot from her face to her chest. Oh, hello cleavage! Two points for Santana.

Her arms wrapped around my neck, pushing her body flush against mine. I glanced down between us.

Oh God, hello there boobs.

"Hug me," she whined, pulling me closer.

I wrapped my arms around her back and let my hands rest gently on her sides.

"I love this song!" she squealed, moving her hips into mine.

After my mind got over the initial shock of her thrusting into me, I listened for the song. After a couple seconds, "round and round" was being repeated and I rolled my eyes.

"Selena Gomez?"

She pulled back to look at me. "No, silly! The song in your pocket!" She tapped her finger against the never-ending hole in my vest.

"Oh." I listened to it, trying to decipher what song was actually playing.

"_Summer moon, catch your shut eye. In your room. In my room. In your room. In my room._

"_Louder lips speak louder. Better, back together. It's a soft shock to your soft side."_

I smiled when I realized she did actually have good taste in music.

Her hips rolled against mine once again as a wave of alcohol-infused breath washed over my face. I pulled away from her. She pouted.

"Brittany, are you drinking?"

"Yessss," she grinned.

I groaned inwardly. I should have known something was up. While she seems like a pretty open person, you don't hug your friendly neighborhood cashier.

"You need to leave, dude." This could really get me fired. I could see it now. Sitting in Sue's office…

"_Santana, I believe we both know why you're here."_

_I shifted. "Yeah."_

"_Then I guess I can tell you that I am _lactating with rage _at how _irresponsible _you are. Letting your drunken friend destroy the store just because you have googly eyes for her?" She scoffed. "Pathetic."_

"_I'm sorry," I muttered, shifting my eyes to her feet._

_Those were some ugly shoes._

"_Sorry isn't good enough. Get the hell out of here before the amount of immature behavior makes me vomit."_

Yeah, that was definitely not going to happen. No way in hell.

"You seriously got to go," I stressed, grabbing her arm.

She twisted it out of my grasp. "Why?"

"I'm going to get fired because of you."

Her friends rounded the corner, one of them holding the Nerf ball. I shot a glare at all three of them.

"Whose bright idea was this?" I hissed, gesturing to Brittany.

"Hers. She insisted we drive her here to visit you." The brunette narrowed her eyes at me. "I don't see what's so special—"

I took a step closer and she immediately stopped talking. I smirked. "I'm from Lima Heights, bitch. Finish that sentence just to see how special we are."

"San, don't be mean," Brittany slurred, touching my arm.

I shrugged her off. I was way too pissed to even look at her. Who did this fucking brunette think she was? Seriously, where does she get off insulting me to my face? I shot her a glare before turning to look at them. "You guys need to leave."

"But I have something to tell you!" Brittany whined, a pout forming on her face.

"Then hurry up."

"I wanted to tell you…" she trailed off, thinking.

"Oh, Lord," one of the guys said.

I glanced at him and glanced back to Brittany, waiting.

"Okay, well. I wanted to tell you that I have, like, this huge crush on you!" she finished, giggling to herself.

My mouth dropped open. I looked at her friends, all of whom were smirking.

"That's all." She hugged me again, kissing me quickly on the cheek. I stood frozen, not sure what was acceptable to do.

Should I demand to know why?

Or should I take her right there, on the cold floor in the toy aisle, and fuck her senseless?

My mind was torn.

For once since I've accepted that I was in fact a lesbian, a girl that I liked happened to like me back. And I was standing there like an idiot.

Well, one girl liked me back but that only resulted in a mess of lesbian fingers and sheets and moans over the course of one night.

Good times.

"Britt, c'mon," the brunette said, grabbing the blonde's arm.

"Fine. See you soon, Santana."

I don't think I even responded. I walked a few feet behind them, my mind reeling.

She had this huge crush on me.

Okay, understandable. I'm a hot mess.

Did she only have this crush now, while she was drunk?

Possible. Let's hope not.

If this crush is legit, how long has she had it?

Unknown. Could it be possible since we first met, like myself?

Hoping once again.

Quinn scoffed as I walked behind the register. "Took you long enough. I thought I was going to have to go in there and make sure you didn't die. You probably would have raped me, though." She paused before grinning. _"If I could go to Heaven, let me go to LA,"_ she sang along with my iPhone.

I blinked.

"What's up with you? And was that Brittany? Was she… drunk?"

I nodded.

"Yes to both?"

I nodded again.

"San, you're freaking me out. Talk." Her worried expression hit me full force.

"She just drunkenly told me she liked me."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight – Saturday, 6 o'clock in the evening**

I hate this job. I hate the people. I hate the customers. I hate everything.

I hate the fact that I haven't seen Brittany since last Saturday and I have no fucking clue why she hasn't come in. Is she embarrassed? Was she lying? Where the fuck was she?

I hate the fact that every time I heard the doors slide open, I look up. I hate the fact that I'm fucking looking for her. Every damn time those doors open.

Every time a blonde walks in, my heartbeat accelerates to an impossible rate and I open my mouth to say something until I notice it's not _my _blonde. Where were the long legs, the pale skin, and those blue eyes?

None of the blondes were her.

"What's wrong with you?" Puck muttered, punching out.

"Nothing."

"Sure."

"Puck…"

"Fine. I'll leave it alone. See you tomorrow," he said, waving and heading out the door.

Sometimes he wasn't all that bad.

My mood over the night remained constant. I was bitter. I expected her to show up any minute.

Didn't she owe me that? She comes in here, drunk off her ass and tells me she likes me? Only to never be seen again?

What the fuck is that bullshit?

My hands shook with rage and I ripped a sale sign in half. "Shit!" I cursed, throwing it on the floor.

A head whipped in my direction and I looked up to see a red-head around my age. "Sorry," I muttered, looking away.

She gave me a small smile. "You're fine." She looked back at the face cleansers and I took the opportunity to look at her.

She was gorgeous. And Santana fucking Lopez did not waste time mourning over a girl who declares her love—well, I guess like is the more appropriate word—and not show up… at all.

No, sir. Santana Lopez was a flirt and flirting is just what I was going to do.

"You need help finding anything?" I asked, standing up and facing her.

She frowned. "Maybe. I used to use this stuff," she started, holding up the Neutrogena Pink Grapefruit acne wash. "But it irritates my skin now. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Well, I'm not skin doctor. But I'll see what I can do." I moved to stand next to her, our arms were inches apart.

She laughed and looked expectantly at me.

And her eyes were green, not the blue I was craving.

I shook the thought out of my head. "First of all, your skin is gorgeous, so—"

"Thank you," she grinned.

I returned the smile. "I use Clean and Clear, sometimes Clearasil. It depends."

"Well, your skin is beautiful so I'm sure you just made a valid suggestion."

I smirked and grabbed the acne wash off the shelf, handing it to her. I let our fingers brush. "Here, try it. If you don't like it, you can always return it. Just keep the receipt."

She nodded and her eyes dipped down to my cleavage before locking onto mine. I smirked, knowing I had her.

"I'm Santana." I held out my hand.

"Clearly." She nodded to my name tag and I shrugged. Sometimes, I forget about it. "But I'm Heather."

"Nice to meet you. You come here often?"

"Apparently not often enough," she smirked.

I grinned. In. The. Fucking. Bag. "I get off at ten tonight. You want to meet up? I know this club we can get into?"

"How old are you, babe?"

_Babe._ Totally getting into the sentiments already. "Nineteen."

She took a couple steps back. "Whoa."

"What?" I asked, my voice cracking. Shit, was this girl underage? She didn't even look underage. She couldn't be.

"You're younger than I thought," she muttered, setting the cleanser back on the shelf.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-six."

"So?" I shrieked. Why was she doing this to me? I needed a rebound. I needed one badly.

She froze and stared at me. "I don't do seven years younger. I'm sorry."

I watched her walk out, the doors sliding closed behind her. "Fuck!" I let rip out of my throat. Why the fuck does this always fucking happen to me?

"Santana!" Quinn rounded the corner, angry eyes on me.

Well, fuck.

"What?" I muttered, looking at the floor.

"I don't care how mad you are. You cannot under any circumstances yell that out loud. What if a customer was around?"

"I don't give a fuck," I hissed, feeling my eyes grow wet.

Her face softened and she took a step closer to me. "What's wrong, San?"

"What the fuck do you think?"

I bit my tongue, realizing my mistake. Rule number one in a friendship with Quinn Fabray: don't take your problems out on her. I watched her eyes harden and her jaw set. A literal gulp went down my throat before she spoke again.

"No need to bite my head off. I'm guessing this is about Brittany not coming in?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. It'll be just my luck to snap at her again. Knowing her, she'd hit me across the face.

And I can't have this beautiful face getting damaged.

She grabbed my hand and released a lungful of air. "I saw her on Monday."

"Where?" I asked, confused. Quinn lives a half hour away from here. Where the hell could she have been to see Brittany who I thought lived pretty close?

Quinn's eyes softened even more, if that was possible. "Here. She came in for tampons."

I froze. She came in on Monday. A day she knows I never work.

She was avoiding me.

I could feel myself crumpling, breaking down. The tears threatened to fall.

Was I being pathetic? A Rite Aid customer that I've met a handful of times was making me this upset. Pathetic.

But can you blame me? We connected instantly. It was like seeing a best friend after a couple of months but nothing had changed. We picked up from the moment we had said goodbye.

It doesn't help that Quinn is pretty much my only friend. I'm not good at meeting new people. It makes me panic. And it's not like I can hog Quinn all to myself. Sam would get pissed. I'm pretty sure he hates me enough.

And you can't blame me for being instantly attracted to Brittany. She was fucking attractive and I have a thing for blondes. I can't help that.

I guess you can blame me for falling head over heels for her, though. I got my hopes up too fast. Especially after she said she had a crush on me. That's all I was thinking about Saturday night. And then the images and thoughts just fell into place.

When Tuesday rolled around and I didn't see her, I was confused. But Quinn just cleared that up.

Quinn's hand brushed against my cheek. I hadn't even realized I was crying. My bottom lip trembled. I looked at Quinn, hoping she could stop this inner torment raging in my head.

"San," Quinn murmured, pulling me into a hug. I crashed against her, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Her fingers danced over my back as she made soft shushing noises in my ear.

I listened to her heartbeat, the slow steady beat driving away my sorrow. It pumped loudly in my ear. I felt more than heard her swallow and my ear tracked the sound down to her stomach. Her hand stilled on my back, moving up to my hair. She leaned back when I grew quiet and brushed the hair away from my face.

"You okay?"

I looked at her, my expression blank.

"Yeah, stupid question." She sighed and took my hand in hers. "Take a bathroom break. Get her off your mind. I'll help you with the signs if you can help me in the back when you can."

My heart swelled. This is why I loved Quinn. She knew me better than anybody else.

I looked up at her and nodded. "Deal."

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**A/N: **Didn't even realize I named the girl Heather until just now. Coincidencessssssss.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I APOLOGIZE FOR NOT UPDATING SOONER. I WAS BANNED FROM THE SITE FOR A LITTLE... CAUSE I'M A BAD ASS.**

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**Chapter Nine – Wednesday, 4 o'clock in the afternoon**

The good things about picking up an extra shift during the week is that there is absolutely nothing to do. So I'm sitting on the floor, putting together a box of damaged products to send back.

Don't ask what they do with them wherever they go. I have no fucking clue.

"Santana," Mike sang, sitting on a stool next to me.

"Chang-a-lang," I sang back, looking up at him with a smile.

"Did you hear about Sandy pilfering drugs from the pharmacy? Emma got promoted and took his spot. Crazy shit, huh?"

I looked up at him, shocked, as I dropped the leaking bottle of Garnier. "You're shitting me."

"I shit you not. And wrap that in a bag."

I grumbled a yes before doing so. "Mike, you know everything."

"I try. Apparently, the count was off Monday. Rachel was flipping shit. Loss prevention came in yesterday and bam! Fired."

"This happened after I left, didn't it?"

"Yes…"

I shook my head. "Always fucking does."

He laughed and patted me on the shoulder. "Sorry, bud."

I pushed his hand away. "Shush. How's Tina?"

"San, she's working now. Go ask her if you really want to know."

I scanned the broken Revlon hairdryer before throwing it in the box. "Well, actually, that was an opener for my second question. Where are my azn babies?" I grinned.

"Jesus Lord, please forgive me as I strangle this girl."

I laughed. What a drama queen. "You love me."

"You w—"

He was cut off as the bell dinged. I rolled my eyes and held up a finger to him. Hold that thought.

"I'm going to help this…"

That was all I heard from him. Because staring back at me, the same shocked expression on her face, was Brittany.

My hands twitched in anger. Look how decided to show up on another day I normally have off.

"Long time no see," I muttered, angrily grabbing her Hot Pockets.

Her face went white and then red. "What are you doing here?"

I scoffed. "I work here."

"No, I mean." She paused and looked at me. "It's Wednesday."

"I took up an extra shift."

Mike snorted beside me. I waved him away. He shot me a grin before helping the woman at photo.

"So, how's it going?" I asked, scanning the food.

She shrugged. "Good…"

Real nice. Just don't even make conversation. Eff this.

"Satan."

I rolled my eyes and looked up to see Berry standing in the door.

"Manhands, can't you see I'm busy?" I hissed.

Kurt walked in, linking his arm through Rachel's. "Come along, Rachel. You're being rude."

I shook my head, watching them go. I turned back to Brittany. "Anyway, where've you been?"

She shrugged again. "Busy."

If my thoughts poured out of my mouth right now… oh, the language. I chose not to answer, opting to scan her Scope Outlast mouthwash and Rite Aid sugar cookies.

"Look—"

"I'm sor—"

We looked up at each other quickly and laughed.

She slid her debit card before speaking. "I wanted to apologize for coming in here drunk and stuff."

"I wanted to tell you that I return the feelings."

She froze from punching in her PIN number to stare at me.

"What?"

I smiled. "Yeah. I really hope you were being honest."

"I was…" she said softly.

"Good," I said, just as softly.

She watched me until I gestured toward the credit card machine. "Oh, right," she smiled, her cheeks turning pink.

I grinned, handing her the receipt and shoving her bag towards her. "Put this in your car and come back in."

"Why?" she asked, confused.

"Don't question me. Just do it."

She rolled her eyes but nodded. I went around the counter, shoving the carts together. They locked into place with a loud crash.

"Stop being so loud," Brittany chastised me, peeking her head around the EAS alarms.

I grinned. "Sorry." I grabbed her hand, walking down the main aisle. As I glanced down each aisle, I found Mike fixing the laundry detergent.

"Chang-a-lang, go watch the register," I yelled.

"Why?" he muttered, walking towards us.

"I have to show her something."

He rolled his eyes. "Sure," he said, drawling out the word. "You owe me."

"Always do," I grinned, ruffling his hair.

He laughed and swatted my hand away, slowly walking to the front of the store.

"What are you showing me?" she asked, clutching my hand tighter.

I smiled, noticing her excitement sparkling in those blue eyes. "You'll see."

"No hint?"

"Nope," I grinned, dragging her away.

As we passed the pharmacy, Rachel's head shot up. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a frown. "Shouldn't you be working?"

"Shouldn't you be concerned with your face?"

She looked at me, confusion written over said face.

"All you ever do is frown, Berry. That forehead is going to be more wrinkled than my abuela's ass. Just saying."

Kurt snorted before a wave of giggles swept over his body. Emma unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile and Tina shook her head at me, a grin on her face.

"Excuse me?" Rachel asked, shocked.

"What I'm trying to say is, lighten up, Berry. Life's short." I tugged on Brittany's hand, dragging her away.

"You just gave advice to Rachel," she stated.

"Good observation," I grinned.

"Why? I thought you hated her."

I sighed with a smile. "Today is the start of a new Santana."

She grinned. "And why's that?"

"You," I said simply.

Her grin grew wider and I continued to drag her down the aisles, my goal growing closer and closer.

Finally, we reached the place and I threw open the door, shoving her inside. I locked the door and turned to her.

Her eyes grew wide as I walked closer to her. "What are you doing?"

"Seducing you," I smirked, pushing my body flush against hers.

"It smells weird in here."

"Shush," I growled, pushing my lips against hers.

Her lips moved against mine before she pulled back. "Really, though? The bathroom?"

"What did I just say?"

"Shush?"

My hands grabbed her shirt, fisting the fabric. Her lips connected with mine once again, moving quickly. My hands pushed her shirt up her body, fingers dancing over her stomach.

And dear Lord, what a stomach it was.

Brittany slipped my vest off my shoulders, hands touching every inch of my body. My mind spun as nails dragged down my stomach, red lines forming in their wake.

"We're really doing this here?" she said softly, kissing down my neck.

I nodded, unable to find words. This was girl utter perfection. I captured her lips in mine, my fingers nimbly unbuttoning her jeans. Her hands brushed mine before she helped me drag them down her legs. She stepped out of them, kicking them against the wall. I pushed her even closer to the tile until she wrapped her bare legs around my waist. I smiled, biting down on her bottom lip. Her hands found the shirt, ripping it open and causing the buttons to unsnap all at once. Her hands traced the curve of my bra. Goosebumps rose in their wake.

As I ripped her shirt over her head, I couldn't help but smile. Here was this hot girl, pushed against a wall by me, and half naked.

I can check 'have sex in a bathroom' off my bucket list.

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**A/N: **Sorry for not updating in awhile. But, I hope you guys enjoyed this, and there's only one more chapter after this. D: Crazy! Since summer came around, I've barely been writing but I'll try to get around to it again. Maybe you'll see more Brittana fanfics from me. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **I once again apologize for not updating sooner. But, here's the last chapter. I appreciate you guys sticking with me and always having wonderful things to say. I would say be on the lookout for another story, but it's summer and I get lazy. D:

I'm trying though. Thanks again, you guys. :)

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**Chapter Ten – Tuesday, 12:30 in the afternoon**

Three months.

It took me three months to fall even more head over heels with a girl I met at my place of employment.

Ninety days. Give or take.

Something soft hit my face and I looked down to see a pink loofa sitting at my feet. My head shot up, eyes narrowed.

Puck. Of course.

He was grinning cheekily while juggling three more of the bath accessories. I rolled my eyes.

Show-off.

I picked up the loofa and threw it back at him. It hit his chest, breaking his concentration so the rest toppled from his hands.

"Bitch."

"Ass," I replied with a grin.

He rapidly fired the loofas at me, causing a shriek to erupt from my mouth. Soon enough, a loofa war began.

Puck grabbed a back brush and began swinging it like a baseball bat. A perfect Manny Ramirez.

Loofas were flying all over the front of the store. We were going to get fired. I could feel it. Schue would walk up here in the next three seconds and see us.

Oh God, no. It'll be Sue.

She'll find some way to arrest us, too. I could see it now. Breaking merchandise. Making them unsellable.

Even though loofas can't break…

She'll find a way.

Puck hung the back brush back on its peg and turned to me. "You know, you never showed me those bad boys." His eyes went from my face to my boobs in an instant.

"You even remember that?" I asked, rolling my eyes. It's just my luck that he did.

"I remember all promises dealing with female body parts," he grinned.

Insert another eye roll here.

"Um, no," I muttered, putting Dove body wash on the shelf.

"You promised."

"I'm the only one that gets to see them."

I turned around, already grinning. I can tell that beautiful voice apart from anyone's.

Brittany stood there, holding up a Subway bag. Her eyes locked on mine and she grinned. "Anybody want lunch?"

I dropped the remaining body washes in the tote I was working out of and turned to Puck. "I'm going on break."

He shook his head furiously. "Hell no. There's a fuckton of stuff to still put away."

"Hang on," Brittany muttered, digging through the Subway bag.

Me and Puck watched her, curious and confused.

"There we go!" she exclaimed, holding up the smaller bag that could only mean one thing: cookies. She threw it at Puck who caught it easily, a smile tugging at his lips.

"How about now?" she asked, grinning.

"Fine," he smiled. Turning to look at me, he pointed to Brittany. "Have I ever told you that you found a really great girl?"

I let me heart swell a little. Only a little. "I know I did."

Brittany stepped closer to me, wrapping her hand around mine.

"And if you guys are ever interested in on threesome, I'm totally the one to call."

I rolled my eyes. I knew that nice streak was a five second occurrence. "Keep dreaming, Puckerman."

"That's all I ever dream about, babe," he grinned, holding his arms out.

I chose to ignore that comment and grabbed Brittany's hand, tugging her quickly to the break room.

She laughed. "Slow down there, babe."

"I'm fucking starving."

She raised her eyebrows.

"For Subway," I clarified. "But I could be hungry for something else when I get off work..."

She laughed as I punched in the code for the door. Shoving her in, I let it slam shut behind me.

"So, how's your day going?" I asked as she handed me my sandwich. I opened it up and smiled. Italian BMT. She knew me too well.

"It's boring. I got a call from Holly this morning. I don't have to go into work tomorrow night."

I grinned. "So I can come over and we can have a cuddle-fest?"

Her face morphed into a shocked expression. "Santana Lopez, are you inviting yourself over?"

I rolled my eyes as I took another bite of the deliciousness. "Maybe."

A smile grew on her face. "I was hoping you'd come over. I want to cook you dinner."

My heart swelled. "You don't have to do that."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "You always pay when we go out to eat so I'm cooking for you."

"My little housewife."

She laughed and threw out our trash, standing and coming over to me.

"Can I help you?"

She moved to my lap, straddling it and wrapping her arms around my neck. I grinned, letting my hands rest on her hips.

"You're going to get me fired," I murmured.

"Good." She captured my lips in hers, her tongue already running over my lips. My mouth opened and soon our tongues were fighting for dominance. As her tongue slid over mine, my hands crept lower and lower down her body until my fingers were toying with the edge of her shorts.

Have I ever thanked God for short shorts?

Let me say it again: Thank _God _for short shorts.

My nails grazed the skin in the hollow of her leg.

"San," she moaned, pressing her forehead against mine.

My eyes looked up to see blue looking back down at me. My fingers slid underneath her shorts and slid down her underwear and those blue eyes turned dark.

She kissed me again before pulling back with a grin. "You taste like BMT."

"I wonder why," I smiled.

Her fingers brushed my cheek and I closed my eyes at the touch. Soft fingers danced over my skin, cooling every inch they ran over.

"I love you," she said softly, her fingers stilling.

I opened my eyes and smiled. "I love you, too."

Brittany was the first to say it, two weeks ago. I made us a date at home. My parents had gone away for the weekend, some business trip for my dad's work. My mom likes tagging along to show off her boobs.

No, she didn't get a boob job. I had to get these girls from somewhere.

I lit candles and we watched _The Notebook, Titanic, Dear John, The Last Song,_ etc. Pretty much every Nicholas Sparks book turned into a movie.

I made spaghetti and meatballs because she loves _Lady and the Tramp_ so much. She even rolled me the last meatball.

I got to lick the sauce off her nose so it was a win-win situation.

That night we actually made love for the first time. Mind you, we've had sex plenty of times, but that time was filled with so much emotion and passion that it could only be defined as making love. She whispered those three words as she cuddled into me.

A frickin' Nicholas Sparks novel.

Which, now that I mention it, is probably why our emotions were so heightened.

Which means Nicholas Sparks was the reason for all that. I need to shake his hand.

Lips crashed into mine before I could remember to move my own. A hand tugged on my hair as my own hands traveled up the lithe body sitting on me. They continued to travel north, grazing over her breasts before stopping at her neck.

"Jesus Christ, Santana. I'm all for your girlfriend bringing you food, but don't have sex with her as a thank you. Save that shit for at home. Sue would fire your ass on the spot."

I rolled my eyes at Schue who stood in the doorway, half-disgusted and half-turned on.

Brittany moved to get off me, but I grabbed her hands, pulling her back so she sat sideways on her lap. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I turned back to Schue.

"Relax," I smiled, seeing his eyes narrow at our new position. I rolled my eyes. You could never please this guy. "Brittany was making sure there was nothing on my face."

Brittany snorted and linked our fingers together.

Schue had a similar reaction. "You mean she was making sure there was nothing _in _your mouth," he mumbled.

I grinned and shrugged. "I can't help it that my girlfriend cares about my oral hygiene."

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**A/N: **The end. :) You guys made updating this fun. I sincerely apologize I haven't been very quick with the updates. I hope you'll forgive me.


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